


Red Carpet Massacre

by elodiej



Category: X/1999
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Gen, Kamui!Kotori
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:56:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elodiej/pseuds/elodiej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'll get her back, someday. Because that's what he's Wishing for, and all he has left since Fuuma died. But some days that someday feels like forever away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Carpet Massacre

**Author's Note:**

> dark sun rose on the ridge cut clear across the sky  
> as good a day as any to die  
> no reservation Madam no reason to know why  
> you spend your life in preparation for this day
> 
>  _red carpet massacre_ \- duran duran

“Don’t you like the new shades,” the other Kamui says. It falls flat like a statement; it’s not a question he’s meant to answer.  ”They reminded me of my brother - somehow I thought he’d like them. Don’t you agree?” She tilts her head to the side and smiles like she used to, her eyes crinkling at the corners and hair spilling over her shoulders. It is so very, very wrong. 

Kamui averts his eyes, wishes her hand weren’t around his throat so he could turn his head. Wishes she weren’t pinning him to the wall so he could run away. She’s grown over the course of the Final Year. She’s two inches taller than him, and he knows because her breath hits his ears and makes his jaw go slack.

“Don’t you think he’d have liked them,  _Kamui_?” she says, and her teeth are scraping his ear and he  _cannot breathe_  her hands will leave a bruise what tiny, strong hands -

“Don’t you.” She digs her nails, manicured, into his neck. “Think dear Fuuma.” She pulls him forward and slams his head back into the concrete. When the fuzziness clears he thinks he can feel blood dripping down his neck. “Would have liked them?”

She pushes her hand up around his chin, gripping it tighter, expectantly - and he looks at her, looks her right in her big wide eyes whose lost innocence can’t be hidden by a pair of cheap tacky vendor’s stand shades. “Yes,” he breathes, and she smiles because she knows Kamui will remember this conversation every time he looks at her, one more reminder of the day - of Fuuma’s body strung up - he couldn’t let go of his head - he was all strung up and she - the sword in his chest and  _Kotori_ , she -

“Kamui!”

She lets him go, turning to look at the source of the sound with a smirk that clearly means trouble, even in Kamui’s vision with all its whited-out edges. It’s Subaru standing there, and Kamui’s heart wrenches in ways he didn’t think it still could. And she turns back to Kamui, the smirk wider now as Kamui’s heart is sinking down.

“Your friend here’s got a Wish which wants granting,” she says, and leans in to kiss his cheek at the same time he feels vines wrapping around his legs and arms and dragging him back to the wall. “Don’t get jealous, though! I’ll play with you later, Kamui-chan.”

And she winks at him as Subaru extends his kekkai and as Kamui screams, and screams, and screams until the kekkai collapses and he has Subaru - so much blood, his  _eye_ , oh my god, he will never be used to all this blood it’s too much it’s always too much - cradled in his arms.


End file.
